


If Ever, Now

by Athena1919



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Finds Out, BAMF Merlin, Episode: s02e03 The Nightmare Begins, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Magic Revealed, Mergana friendship because I can't help myself, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, in denial!Merlin, not a lot I promise, oh well, so the pining is kind of implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 13:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13237155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athena1919/pseuds/Athena1919
Summary: Merlin realizes that Morgana has magic and that he needs to help her before anyone else realizes it, too. He agrees to give her illegal magic lessons on top of all the work he does for Arthur and chores he handles for Gaius.Arthur hears rumors of something going on between Merlin and Morgana and isn't pleased.To Merlin, it just seems like the prince is determined to monopolize his thoughts- as if he didn't already. With even more secrets to keep, Merlin is glad he knows how to juggle.





	If Ever, Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [artemis1919](https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis1919/gifts).



> This fic has been a lot of firsts for me- first to be posted to AO3, first Merthur fic, first fic written for someone else... the list goes on. I would be remiss in not thanking artemis1919 for her constant support, beta-ing, and actually picking out the prompts and accepting a fan fic as a Christmas present. Like, what? She chose the prompts love, magic, and secrets, and I did my best to fit that, and she requested it be rated M. Also she helped pick out the title, which was taken from Shakespeare's Sonnet 90 and fits pretty well, I think. For anyone interested, Sonnets 88-90 are part of a letter to one of his friends and, in my opinion, echo a lot of Merlin's more angst-ridden thoughts in this fic. Also thanks to Fall Out Boy's HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON'T, which I listened to on repeat while writing this. I was going to pick the title from among its lyrics but we both agreed that it was a little too angsty (a concept that I think is fake; you can never have enough angst) for all the fluff that I included in this. More notes about specific things (mostly the flowers) at the end! Enjoy!

A scream echoed out in the night, cutting through the sound of the storm outside. Morgana shot up from her bed, panting heavily. She looked over to the candle that Gwen had left unlit by her window only to see the wick combust and spurt upwards. It caught onto the curtain, spreading quickly down the cloth. Another scream carried throughout the castle and the window behind the candle blew out with a loud crack. The shards of glass clattered onto the stones of the courtyard below.

Merlin was awoken by Gaius’s voice and, though he was still bleary with sleep, he could tell something had happened by the note of worry he heard in it. “What-” he swiped his tongue across his lips, “What happened?”

“There’s been a fire in Lady Morgana’s room. A broken window, too. She’s being escorted here now, but Prince Arthur will be waiting for you, so you’d better get going.”

Merlin groaned, but sat up to rub the sleep from his eyes. After taking a moment to gather himself, he pulled on some clean clothes and headed straight for the prince’s chambers, darting between servants and guards in order to reach his destination. He turned the corner only to see Arthur standing in the doorway to his chambers, looking very much awake, dressed, and annoyed.

“Took you awhile to wake up, did it, Merlin?” He asked, his eyes trailing down Merlin’s form to note the rumpled state of his clothes. “I suppose I should be thankful the fire wasn’t in my chambers. Who knows how long it would’ve taken for  _my_ servant to notice.”

“I shudder to think what would have happened, sire, considering that you would have had no way to escape or put out the fire before I arrived.” Merlin smiled innocently, noting the way Arthur rolled his eyes at the comment before stalking off towards Morgana’s room. Merlin followed a few steps behind him.

“I’ll deal with finding out what caused this. You, Merlin, are to help Gwen and the other servants clean up.”

“Be careful not to injure yourself,” Merlin interjected as Arthur shot a confused glance back at him, “I know what a strain thinking can put on you.”

“At least I have the capacity for thought, which is more than can be said for you. Otherwise, you’d have already taken the hint to stop talking.” And with that, Arthur opened the door to Morgana’s chambers, striding inside and letting it start to fall shut behind him.

Merlin huffed and entered the rooms, sharing a look of comfort with Gwen when she noticed him. It wasn’t long before Arthur and the king left to take their investigation elsewhere, and Merlin finished taking down the burnt curtains in Morgana’s chambers. He left the other servants and headed to help Gaius prepare the day’s poultices. He was able to see through a crack in the door that Morgana had made it there safely and was conversing with Gaius. Merlin could see why Gwen was concerned; she certainly seemed shaken. However, despite her subdued nature, her words were as sharp as ever.

“It was me. I set the room alight. I started the fire.” The confident clip in her tone made Merlin’s attention snap back to the conversation. He was suddenly glad he’d stopped outside of the door instead of entering the room.

“I don’t understand. Did you knock the candle over?” Gaius responded.

“No, that’s not what happened. I did it just by looking at it, the flames suddenly leapt higher.”

“It could’ve been a gust of wind.”

“It wasn’t. It was me. It was magic.”

And there it was. Merlin had suspected of course, and shared Gaius’s concerns about the lady’s dreams, but to hear from her own mouth that she had magic was something else entirely. Something that explained the tremble in her speech much better than the fright of the fire in her room or the broken window. Neither of those things would cow Lady Morgana otherwise, not when she stood up to Uther unflinchingly on a regular basis. But Merlin understood the fear that had become magic’s constant companion in the years since the Great Purge, the terror of watching hangings and beheadings and burnings, the alienation of knowing what so many thought of magic and those who have it.

It was that understanding that drove him to speak with Gaius after Morgana had left, hoping for more than a few paltry words of comfort and another sleeping draught.

“It's odd isn't it? If lightning struck the window like Arthur said, you'd think the glass would've fallen inside of the window. It was magic. You know it was. More importantly, so does she.”

“Morgana knows nothing for certain,” Gaius said, grinding up herbs with a mortar and pestle.

“Which makes it even worse,” Merlin argued. “She isn’t sure what’s happening to her and it’s tearing her apart."

“What would you have me do?” Gaius set down the pestle to look at him.

“Talk to her. Tell her she’ll be okay. Tell her that her powers aren’t something to be afraid of.”

“I can’t.”

“Maybe I could speak to her.” Gaius protested, as Merlin knew that he would, but his mind was already made up. There was no one else in the castle better equipped to help Morgana, and he wasn’t about to leave her on her own. Not when she was so terrified. There were plenty of peaceful magic users, as proven by the druids’ existence, but he’d fought too many spells and enchantments to be comfortable with letting anyone battle those demons alone. Nevermind that Morgana was his friend.

So Merlin found himself smiling weakly at Gaius and making some noncommittal noise that his mentor assumed meant that he’d stay out of the matter. Then he left to gather a few things and find the Lady Morgana.

Merlin was walking up the stairs that led to the royal chambers later with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He was focused inwards, trying to get some kind of idea of how to tell Morgana. Of how to word things when he did. If he didn’t have a plan in advance, he’d probably just stutter something entirely unintelligible out and she’d give him that questioning look and he’d just chicken out. He couldn’t do that. So he was running through lines in his head, trying to find some way of saying everything that didn’t sound utterly insane. Unfortunately, even the idea of telling Morgana sounded a little insane to him, and that wasn’t helping his case. His case with the imaginary Morgana, that is.

Needless to say, Merlin was a little bit startled when he ran straight into Arthur, who was headed in the other direction. Startled enough, in fact, that he dropped the bouquet of flowers as Arthur’s hand gripped his shoulder to steady him.

“You know, it’s usually not the girl who gives the flowers, Merlin.” Arthur’s hand slid down his arm as he knelt down to pick up the flowers, but Merlin was sure he’d imagined the tenderness of it.

“Are you saying I should expect flowers from you?” Merlin may not have been sure about how to tell Morgana about his magic, but he was sure that he didn’t want to acknowledge what seeing Arthur in front of him on one knee with a bouquet of flowers in his hands was doing to him. So he didn’t. He’d told himself he wouldn’t, anyway.

Arthur shrugged, his eyes lingering on Merlin’s a little longer before he stood up. It seemed sudden, contrasted by how still he’d been. He held out the flowers, and Merlin did all he could to make sure his fingers didn’t touch Arthur’s as he took them back.

“Unlike you, I don’t have all day to spend picking flowers. Actually, you don’t either, considering how desperately my chainmail needs cleaning. Now if you’ll excuse me, there are other maidens in need of my assistance.”

“I’ll see to it right away!” Merlin called after him, thankful for the shattered moment. He walked on to Morgana’s door and knocked, still collecting himself when Gwen answered the door.

“How is she?” He inquired.

“I’ve never seen her like this before. I’m scared to leave her on her own.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” At the sound of shifting, Gwen turned around and Merlin looked into the room. Lady Morgana was asleep in her bed, turning fretfully.

“Um, sorry Merlin. I’d really better get back to her. But, well, thank you.” Gwen smiled softly and Merlin returned it as he handed her the bouquet. “I’ll make sure she knows who they’re from.”

Merlin figured it was best to let Morgana rest; the kind of news he had to tell her would probably only be harder to hear whilst sleep-deprived. Gaius would just act suspicious of him, and he really didn’t want to feel any more guilty about that whole mess than he already did, so that left him trekking down to the armory to clean Arthur’s chainmail.

He was able to fill the rest of the day with various chores and errands, and was perfectly open to admitting how relieved he was that Gaius wasn’t here when he returned to their rooms that night. Merlin wasn’t sure when his mentor would be back, but he wasn’t in any rush to hide out in his own room, so he sat in their common area and flipped through a few medical books and such. He figured he might as well do a bit of studying up on scientific remedies considering that he was technically Gaius’s apprentice.

He’d almost fallen asleep at the table when the door slammed open and Morgana rushed inside. The first thing Merlin noticed was the panicked look on her face. Then the fact that he’d never seen her hair that disheveled before. Then that she was wearing only her nightgown.

“Is Gaius here?”

“Uh, no, he’s not here at the moment. He should be back soon, though.” Merlin stood up to face Morgana as she came to a stop in front of him.

“I need to speak with him. Where is he?” Her eyes darted around the room as she spoke.

“He’s gone to see the King.” Morgana searched his face, and Merlin realized that something else must have happened. “What’s wrong?”

Morgana’s mouth opened like she was going to say something, but she just breathed out shakily and looked at the floor.

“You can trust me Morgana,” he said when she began slowly turning towards the door again. “You know you can.” He managed to catch her gaze.

She shook her head, “I’m scared Merlin. I don’t understand anything anymore. I need to know what’s happening.” When he’d decided to tell Morgana, to try and help her, he hadn’t exactly imagined how hard it would be to actually tell her. He could rationalize it as simple self-preservation, given how his entire life depended on no one finding out about his own magic, but that just sounded like an excuse.

“Please.” Hearing her sound so small made something in his core twist vehemently.

He swallowed, tried to force out the words, but he only heard himself say, “Gaius will be back soon, he’ll be able to help you.”

“He won’t.” She took a step toward him. “I don’t want any more remedies, they won’t do any good.” Merlin knew it was true, but he wished it weren’t. That Gaius could mix up some potion for her and everything would be fine and she’d be safe. Safe from Uther and her nightmares and her fear.

Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.

“It’s magic.”

He froze. His thoughts stopped. He hadn’t been prepared for what hearing that would do to him. Not from someone so close to Uther.

“What?”

“I’m your friend, you know I wouldn’t make this up.” Her words were rushed, nervous.

“Of course,” he nodded. He could tell that his reactions weren’t reassuring Morgana any, but they were all he could give at the moment because he couldn’t think, couldn’t come up with anything else to say, to explain that he understood what she felt.

“Then you believe me?”

He did.

“You think it’s magic too.”

It couldn’t be anything else.

“Please, Merlin.”

His throat went dry.

“I just need to hear someone say it so I don’t have to keep feeling like I’m imagining it.”

And he couldn’t say anything, not because he didn’t want to, but because he felt as trapped and paralyzed and scared as she did and no matter how much power he had, how much magic he could do, that didn’t fade. The constant warnings, reminders, cautions, those didn’t go away. Morgana was afraid because she didn’t know what would happen to her, but he’d spent hours in his own nightmares about being discovered. Long enough to know he couldn’t subject anyone else to that fate.

So he reached out to her. His hand was shaking as it wrapped around her shoulder. He didn’t have enough strength to take a step forward or put any weight into the exchange, but Morgana collapsed into him anyway. She didn’t cry, but he could feel her shuddering against him even as her breathing slowed and realized that it wasn’t just his frozen mind that caused the chill of Morgana pressing against him.

“You’re cold,” he said, clasping her hand in his to feel just how icy her fingers were. He pulled away slightly to look over at the pile of blankets in the corner. His eyes flashed golden as he called one to his hand and wrapped it around her shoulders, and then guided her to the table to sit down. She practically fell into the seat and then followed his movements, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, as he sat down beside her.

Her mouth closed and then reopened slowly a few times before it fell shut for longer than a few seconds and she turned away. She seemed to pause in order to collect herself, and then turned back, already looking more like herself. Merlin wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing for him.

“You have magic too.” Her smile was tentative.

“How perceptive of you, my lady.” It grew into a grin.

“You have magic, Merlin!” Her voice rose, then dropped to a whisper, “You have magic and you didn’t tell me sooner?” She sounded more teasingly chastising than anything else, and her eyes had that mischievous glint in them once more.

“I didn’t really have a reason to tell you, and the less people who know, the better.” He said, fixing a meaningful glance at her.

“Right. You’re,” she paused, sighing heavily, “right. I just- wow. You don’t make it easy on a girl, do you? This is great, though! I need help, Merlin. With magic. My magic. I have magic.”

“Yeah, and you need to be careful. I know I don’t need to tell you this, of all people, but Camelot’s not exactly the most welcoming for us.”

Morgana scoffed. “I refuse to be intimidated by Uther and his regime.”

“Still, it’s easier for everyone if he doesn’t happen to know that his favorite ward can perform sorcery.”

“Fine, but you’re helping me learn how to control and use it. I don’t want to be plagued by my dreams anymore.” Merlin looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

“Merlin?” He fixated on her hands, clasped together in her lap. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I- um- well, I’ll have to look into the nightmares.”

“You never had them?”

“No.” The smile died on her face.

“But, I’m not exactly your typical warlock anyway. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure that as you learn everything else it’ll start getting better, if nothing else. I have a few books I can look in, though.”

“Alright. How are you able to keep books in here?”

“Gaius has helped me a lot. I didn’t even know any spells before I came to him.”

“Gaius knows?”

“Yes.” Merlin could see the disbelief written across her features.

“Who else?”

“No one. Trust me, it’s nice to talk like this.”

“I don’t doubt it. But really? No one? Not even Arthur?”

“Arthur? No way! He’d probably throw me in the dungeons himself.” Merlin could deal with the dungeons. Hell, he had before. It was the look on Arthur’s face, the disgust and rejection he could imagine in his features, the way he’d pull away from Merlin that he was afraid of. Somehow, he thought that Morgana understood that. The way her eyes softened with something he couldn’t quite call pity evidenced as much.

“There are plenty of things he’d love to do to you, Merlin, but throwing you in the dungeons for sorcery isn’t one,” Morgana smirked. Merlin couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. Yeah, Morgana would be fine. As much as that fact pleased him, it didn’t help with the heat spreading from his face across to his ears and down his chest. He hoped the darkness of the room hid it, but from the look on Morgana’s face, he was out of luck.

“I don’t know what impression you’ve got of me and Arthur, but it’s entirely wrong. He thinks I’m an utter idiot. And right now, I’m starting to agree,” he gave Morgana a very pointed look.

“Alright, since I’m feeling generous-” it took all Merlin had not to laugh- “in return for your help with my magic, I’ll help you with Arthur.”

“That sounds great, except there’s nothing to help with.” Morgana shook her head and handed the blanket back, standing as she did so.

“Of course there isn’t, Merlin.” She sighed. “Any ideas to get me through the night?”

“The best advice I can give right now is to not fight whatever your magic wants to do. A lot of my first magic, and even a lot of it now, was entirely instinctual. I think it’ll be easier on you if you can accept that it’s a part of you.”

“Right. Sounds simple.” Morgana seemed doubtful, to say the least. “I’ll do that. And you can meet me in my chambers after supper tomorrow for my first lesson.”

With a nod, Morgana swept out of the room just as she’d come in, except she now possessed all of her usual confidence. Merlin was left without a say, but he couldn’t bring himself to be displeased with the night’s events. As he blew out the candles still alight in the room and ascended the stairs to go to his bed, the small smile on his face never died.

The next morning found Merlin in Arthur’s chambers. Perhaps it was his exchange with Morgana the night before, but he was in a surprisingly good mood. As an unfortunate side effect of his mood, however, Arthur’s mildly incredulous gaze seemed to follow him wherever he turned, lingering on his smile and fluid movements as Merlin performed his various tasks. The prince seemed rather reticent on the topic though, offering no comment or explanation, so Merlin completed his chores mostly in silence.

As Arthur finished his breakfast, Merlin stopped at his side and shifted from foot to foot.

“Well, spit it out. You’ve done too decently today to not want something,” Arthur sighed.

“Lady Morgana requests that I meet with her after supper tonight. I won’t be able to see you to bed until after I’m finished there.” Arthur turned to look at him, his silverware clattering onto the table.

“What does Morgana want with you? The flowers couldn’t have worked that well.”

“It wasn’t like that! I was just being nice, which is something you could stand to try more often. And anyway, Morgana and I are testing a new method of dealing with her nightmares. I’m- um- this is probably going to become a regular thing, especially if it starts working.” Arthur still stared at him, but Merlin was having trouble meeting his eyes. He pinned his gaze to his shoes instead as he spoke.

“So Morgana’s stealing my manservant away? And you decided to just, what? Let me know now instead of asking?”

“It’s only for an hour or so! I’ll still get everything else done for you, and if you need another servant at that time, I can arrange it. Or I could just come in afterwards to get you ready to sleep.” Arthur stood up, reaching out to grab Merlin’s face and tilt his chin upwards.

“Stop talking to the floor, Merlin. If you were going to start acting like a little boy caught stealing treats from the kitchens, you should have just had Morgana tell me-”

“That’s some description. I don’t suppose you have much experience stealing treats from the kitchens, do you, sire?” Merlin cut him off. Arthur offered a long-suffering glare and resumed speaking.

“As much as I’ve gotten used to your sub-par service, I don’t think a night of quality work would do me any good. It would probably just remind me of everything I’m missing.” It was the miniscule tightening of Arthur’s hand on his jaw that made Merlin realize the prince still hadn’t let him go. He pulled lightly against his grip and the tips of Arthur’s fingers skimmed his flesh as he lowered his hand.

“I’m almost flattered,” Merlin deadpanned.

“You’re a bigger idiot than I thought if you managed to get flattery out of that. You have an hour after supper to spend playing nurse to Morgana. I expect you back here promptly after that. No delays, no distractions. And to make up for my inconvenience, you can spend today polishing my boots, sharpening my sword, picking up the crossbow bolts I requested from the armory, and washing my gambeson. Oh, and the stables could use a mucking out.” Arthur clapped him on the shoulder, hard, and stalked away to do whatever princely duties needed doing. Which really meant standing around looking important while Merlin did all the legwork. At least, that’s what it meant for Merlin.

By supper time, Merlin had somehow managed to finish all of his chores without magic and was understandably exhausted. Regardless, he was excited to start teaching Morgana, and although he still hadn’t told Gaius of the situation, he was sure the physician would be fine with it once Morgana started showing improvement. The only problem was, he’d never tried to teach anyone magic before, and had absolutely no idea where to start. Which was a pretty big problem.

There were a few smaller spells that he knew that might be a good place to start. Of course, he could always start with teaching her how to move objects and such like he had. She’d probably have to use spells for that, which he’d never bothered learn, so maybe that was out of the question for tonight. It was possible he could begin with having her learn how to light and put out candles. That would be a big relief for her, considering everything that had happened the other night due to her nightmares.

“Merlin!” The hiss of his name shocked him from his thoughts and he automatically tilted the jug he’d been pouring wine from upwards. He looked down at Arthur and his glass to see that he’d spilt a few drops of wine onto the table and hurriedly dabbed at the spot with a cloth, apologizing under his breath as he did so. Arthur tilted his head back to glance worriedly at him, and Merlin could see Morgana doing the same from the other side of Uther.

He turned away to stand behind Arthur’s seat once more but a hand grabbed his wrist and stopped him. Arthur gave his arm a tug that had Merlin at his side once more, close enough to see the shallow furrow of his brow.

“Are you alright? You’ve been distant all night,” the prince’s voice was quiet, pitched low, but Merlin thought he recognized the serious tone that Arthur adopted when there was something bothering one of the villagers or knights.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just finding it a bit harder to focus tonight than usual, is all, I suppose,” Merlin responded, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

“Maybe you should leave early, get some rest before treating Morgana. I can handle myself tonight, if necessary.” Arthur’s thumb moved slowly across the inside of his wrist from where it rested without pressure, then trailed back to its original position, and then again. Merlin’s mind stuttered to that burning touch of skin and he blinked, catching Arthur’s eyes.

“No,” he said slowly, “no, thanks. I can handle it.”

“You’re sure?” Arthur’s thumb arced down, gliding over Merlin’s palm.

“Positive,” Merlin responded, his breath shuddering out of his body. Arthur gave a slight nod as Merlin stepped away, letting his hand fall from the other man’s touch. He could survive Morgana just fine, but Arthur being concerned threw him off in a way that he struggled to justify to himself.

Luckily, though, the interaction kept him mostly mentally present for the rest of supper. Or at least, present enough to pointedly ignore the concerned glances that Arthur kept giving him. He would have made some sarcastic comment or something to Arthur afterwards, but Morgana slipped her arm through his and steered him away. Merlin looked back at Arthur only to see the prince frowning at the pair of them.

“Don’t mind Arthur, he’s just jealous,” Morgana told him, drawing his attention.

“I thought there wasn’t anything between you two? Are he and Gwen not- together anymore?” Merlin asked, his brow furrowing slightly as he and Morgana climbed the flight of stairs to the hallway her chambers were on. Arthur would usually be coming this way too, but after they’d left the dining room he’d all but disappeared.

“There’s not anything between Arthur and I, no. And he and Gwen have been-” she paused, the corner of her mouth pulling to the side slightly in thought, “-different, lately. I think they both have realized they have other pursuits that interest them more.”

Merlin disentangled their arms in order to open the door to Morgana’s chambers and wave her inside. He was going to respond to Morgana, but spotted Gwen tidying up inside the room and thought better of it. He smiled at her instead.

“Merlin! What are you doing here?” She asked, beaming at him as he closed the door behind him.

“Hi Gwen,” he grinned, “I read about something in one of Gaius’s books that might help with Morgana’s nightmares. A method of calming her mind. We were going to try it out tonight and see if it works.”

“That’s so kind of you,” she replied, picking up an old set of linens to be washed.

“It’s nothing, really,” Merlin said.

“Is that lavender I smell?” Morgana interjected, her face angled upwards to catch the scent better.

“Oh, I burned some earlier. I thought it might be relaxing for you, my lady.”

“You’re too good to me, Gwen.” The conversation dropped a bit and the three stood, pointing lingering smiles at each other.

“Right! Well, it’ll probably be easier for you two if you have some privacy. I’ll go take care of these,” Gwen said, raising the linens a bit. She made to take the candle out too, but Morgana stopped her before she could.

“Would you mind leaving that here, actually?”

“Of course.” The corners of Gwen’s mouth twitched upwards as she curtsied and left the room, Merlin holding the door open as she did so. There was a pause as Merlin shut the door and he and Morgana looked around, realizing what they were about to do. Morgana broke their contemplation.

“Right, then. Where do we start?”

“Since you’ve been having so much trouble with the candles and all, why don’t I teach you how to control lighting them and putting them out?” Morgana nodded, her eyes steely.

“Okay. The spell is forbearnan.” As he said the word, Merlin looked over to the candle and its wick caught flame, burning softly. His eyes slid back to Morgana to see that she was still watching his face. He flushed, which he decided to attribute to being unused to using magic so blatantly rather than the awe flashing in her eyes as she finally looked over to the flame.

“Do I just- say the word?”

“The spell is used to channel your magic more than anything else. Give it shape, purpose. That’s why the pronunciation and all matters so much. You have to call your magic to the surface yourself first, which can be challenging for some people.”

“Did you ever struggle with it?” Her head tilted towards the candle slightly as she regarded him.

“Not really. My problem is more keeping my magic from doing things rather than the opposite. Here.” His eyes flashed and the flame disappeared.

“You didn’t use a spell for that one,” Morgana noted. Merlin moved the candle to a spot on the floor and grabbed a cushion for each of them.

“A lot of the simpler spells can be performed non-verbally after you know them well enough.” He sat down on one of the cushions in front of the candle and Morgana took a seat across from him on the other one. “I’m not sure exactly how your magic will behave but you’re going to have to focus on that part of you to be able to perform the spell. Many of the texts and various books describe it as drawing up water from a well. You just have to find where the well is first, and then every time you go back it’ll be a little bit easier.”

“Sounds easy enough. I just don’t really have any idea where the well might be or how to find it.” She gave a sarcastic smile.

“I know the nightmares aren’t the happiest experiences, but since that’s what your magic has been connected to so far, maybe they have something to do with that?”

“It’s worth a try.” A half hour later, they were still trying. Morgana had tried the spell a couple times, but nothing happened, so it seemed she was still searching for a way to call her power voluntarily. It was slow going, and frustrating to say the least. Merlin was used to the tedious process of learning spells by now, but he figured that was different from searching for his magic itself. It was something he’d never had to do; his was always just there. Any advice he could give would only be a shot in the dark.

Suddenly, Morgana opened her eyes and glanced down at the candle. “Forbearnan,” they flashed golden, and a flame sprung upwards. It burned high for a moment and it seemed to Merlin as though Morgana would panic for a moment before the flame fell back down to a proper height. She caught his gaze from across the little candle and broke out into a grin.

“I did it!” She laughed.

“You did it!” Merlin chorused, laughing at her elation.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching across the space between them to squeeze his hand. “Alright, teach me how to put it out and then I’ll return the favor by helping you.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, but obliged, telling her, “The easiest spell for putting it out would be forþ fleoge.” The flame sputtered out, but a glance from Merlin had it burning once more.

By the time their one-hour lesson was almost finished, Morgana had managed to put the candle out and was working on relighting it.

“I should be going soon,” Merlin announced, looking out the window to note the moon’s position in the sky. “Arthur will be expecting me before bed.”

“Yes, I imagine he’ll be rather upset with me if I keep you late,” Morgana sighed, pulling at one of the cushion’s tassels.

“He wouldn’t blame you, it’d be me that he’d be upset with.”

“As if he could ever truly be mad at you, Merlin, of all people,” Morgana rolled her eyes in a fashion that was curiously a mixture of exasperation and impetuousness.

“It’s somewhat of a daily occurance. Hourly, even. If he doesn’t insult me as soon as I step into his chambers I think it might be a new record.” Merlin’s bottom lip exaggerated slightly into a pout as he set the cushions and candle aside.

“If I were him and it put that look on your face, I’d probably get onto you all the time too.”

Merlin could feel the heat rising under his skin, “It’s nothing like that, I’m just not the best at my job.”

“If that were really true, he would have gotten rid of you a long time ago. And anyway, I suspect that he doesn’t keep you around just so you can do his chores.”

“Why would he, then? For my witty repartee?” Morgana raised an elegantly arched eyebrow at his remark. He held out his arm for her and they locked elbows as she led him towards the door.

“Do you really not see it?”

“If I did, we wouldn’t still be having this conversation.”

Morgana shook her head in what seemed to be some combination of exasperation and pity. She mumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “you can lead a horse to water.” Merlin inclined his head towards her as he opened the door and they stepped out into the hallway.

“He acts differently towards you than anyone else, even Gwen. It’s like seeing a glimpse of how he was as a child again; completely unburdened with matters of state and unconcerned with society’s conventions.” She peered up to Merlin’s visage, “He’s always been physical, even more so with you, and I don’t think I even see that much admiration from him when he looks at Uther anymore.”

“What you’re suggesting, Morgana-” it was hard to find his breath, and even harder for Merlin to find his words, “-it’s just because I don’t matter. He doesn’t care how he is around me because regardless of how he behaves, there’s nothing to lose.” Morgana opened her mouth, seemingly to protest, but they were standing in front of Arthur’s door and it was opening to reveal the man himself.

Morgana’s lips pursed in discontent, but she exhaled and, instead of addressing Arthur, turned her body towards Merlin. “Think about what I said,” she requesting, slipping her arm from his and clasping his hand for a moment before nodding to Arthur, who had been tracking the interaction intently, and gliding back down the hall towards her own door.

“You two seem cozy,” Arthur commented, stepping aside to allow Merlin entry. He seemed less bright than usual, like Merlin was standing next to a bonfire and not the sun that Arthur usually radiated. Regardless, Merlin stepped inside, his side brushing against the prince as he did so. There was a weighted silence as he began to build up the fire in the hearth more for the night ahead. “Nothing to say?” He could feel Arthur’s presence behind him like a beacon, leaning against the table.

“I’m trying to help her sleep, Arthur, because she’s my friend and that’s the friendly thing to do. If you’re expecting more than that, then I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“You really don’t see it?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that to me? No, I don’t!” Maybe it was because of all of the questions that night, or because the magic lesson had exhausted him, or because he was tired of pretending like he didn’t feel anything and the whole encounter was chafing against some gash in his heart in a way that physically hurt him to stand there and look at his prince.

“Let me explain, then. Morgana is, objectively speaking, gorgeous. And, friendly as your intentions may be, the two of you are quite close. She is incredibly out of your league-”

“Wow, thank you, sire, I appreciate your apt and delicate wording. Wouldn’t want to get too confident-”

“Merlin, for God’s sake, just listen for once.” It wasn’t so much his words but his proximity that silenced Merlin, who hadn’t noticed Arthur’s advance for all that they had been talking. His back pressed against the rough stone surrounding the fireplace and he had to tilt his head downwards to see Arthur better. His swallowed heavily, thankful that the redness blooming across his face and upper chest could be attributed to the fire’s heat.

“It looks like you’re interested in courting her.” Arthur continued, “Even if you aren’t, she certainly makes it seem that way, but that’s who she is anyway, always pushing the boundary of what’s acceptable and just,” Arthur ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the golden strands, “just swear to me that you feel nothing for her like that.”

Arthur met his eyes then, looking up through his lashes to do so. And maybe this, of all things, was his consequence for telling Morgana about his magic. For helping her develop hers. Arthur was in front of him, less than a hand’s breadth away and for all the world sounding more than ever like he was close to begging and Merlin had to actually battle to keep the space between them. If he had been in his right mind then he might have handled it better but the whole situation only ended up making him even more furious. At himself, mostly, but also at Arthur for presuming and making everything he did a million times harder and being so completely and utterly thick and too spoiled for his own good.

“I’ve told you that already, and it’s not like it’s any of your business either way,” Merlin laughed bitterly, “If you’re going to act so jealous then you might at least try to woo me first, sire.” He pushed his way past Arthur to storm out of the room.

Gaius looked up from his work as Merlin slammed the door behind him and stomped up to his own room, but his mentor chose not to comment. He dove into his bed and screamed into the pillow. He was still angry, but that anger was slowly slipping into disbelief at what he’d said. After everything he’d done, all the he’d been through, he was going to be fired for good because he couldn’t control his temper in some stupid argument.

Merlin slept fitfully through the night, anxious for whatever the morning would bring. He woke up, for once, before Gaius had to come in and wake him, and trudged down the stairs to scowl into his breakfast.

“Whatever has happened between you and the prince, I’m sure it will be fine,” Gaius told him as the older man stood up from their breakfast table and clasped a hand to his shoulder briefly before getting started on the day’s work.

“Thank you, Gaius, but I’m not so sure this time,” Merlin hung his head in his hands to avoid having to see the understanding look that his mentor was surely giving him. “I don’t even really know what could’ve set him off because he’s never reacted like that before but I really handled it wrong. I don’t know what I can do to fix things either.”

“Prince Arthur faces many pressures every day, and it’s possible that one of those contributed to his behavior. Have you thought that perhaps he feels the same way as you do about the matter? It would be rather surprising if he was genuinely upset with you, and if he wasn’t, he probably regrets his words as much as you do yours.” It wasn’t much, but it was something, and that was enough to make Merlin perk up and shoot a weak smile at Gaius.

“I hope you’re right,” he sighed. “I’d better get going, though, and find out.”

Merlin spent the entire walk to Arthur’s chambers trying to not panic.

When he arrived, everything appeared as it usually did, besides the pile of clothes from the day before on the floor by Arthur’s bed. The thought that Arthur was incapable of even putting his own clothes away made Merlin roll his eyes as he walked over and put them away. Opening the curtains to let in the soft morning sunlight, Merlin tried to work up the nerve to actually take the few steps over to the bed and shake his prince awake. It was likely that he would’ve stood there forever, staring at Arthur’s sleeping form, if Arthur hadn’t shifted onto his side and let out a quiet sigh that sounded suspiciously like Merlin’s name.

“Your Highness?” Merlin called from the window, his head turned towards Arthur and the bed.

Arthur made a questioning hum, his eyes blinking open slowly before settling on Merlin’s silhouette in front of the window. His gaze traveled slowly up and down Merlin’s body, sleepily trying to make sense of what he was seeing. His cornflower blue eyes seemed to catch on his manservant’s and Merlin was drawn into their watery depths, forgetting for a moment what he had been doing. Then Arthur yawned and the connection broke.

“Merlin?” Arthur mumbled, slurring the word slightly as he rubbed the drowsiness from his visage.

“Good morning,” Merlin responded, lowering his voice to match the reverent quality he’d heard in Arthur’s.

“Good morning. I,” Arthur grimaced, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be? This is my job, after all.” Merlin could feel his heart like the pounding of a drum in his chest.

“No!” They both winced at the outburst. “I mean, yes, of course it is, and no, there’s not,” Arthur continued, quieter, a placating hand lifted in front of him. “I just thought that you’d still be upset with me. I would, anyway. Still be upset.”

“Oh.”

“You were right, Merlin, last night. I shouldn’t have acted that way towards you when you did nothing to deserve it and I feel badly about it.” Arthur stood up, pushing aside the bed sheets as he did so and dressed in nothing but his bed clothes, which consisted of an overly large, white sleeping tunic.

“Oh.” Merlin decided that he must be as big of an idiot as Arthur always said for his brain to have frozen to the point where that was the only thing he could think of to say.

“Forgive me?” By the tone of Arthur’s voice, it was meant as a question, but it certainly wasn’t phrased like one. That was enough to make Merlin’s lingering annoyance rise to the surface, which he refused to let drown in the feeling of Arthur placing a cautious hand on his shoulder.

“You haven’t even apolo-”

“You can have the afternoon off,” Arthur interjected quickly. Merlin crinkled his eyebrows in confusion.

“What if I don’t want the afternoon off?” Needless to say, given the nearly nonexistent amount of time he’d ever had off, Merlin was a tad bit suspicious. Arthur was a great prince, a great knight, but he wasn’t always the most considerate person. Merlin believed that it was more likely he was giving him the afternoon off to get rid of him rather than because he’d had a sudden change of heart.

“Well, there’s plenty to do, then,” the smugness was palpable as Merlin walked over to the wardrobe to grab some clothes to change Arthur into. “I have laundry that needs doing, the knights have been asking for you to help with training again, I’m supposed to go out today and survey some of the outlying farms,” he smiled innocently, “and my stables could really use a good mucking out.”

Merlin nearly groaned. So Arthur wanted him away for the day badly enough that he’d resort to extortion in order to convince him. Merlin mouthed insults as he helped pull off Arthur’s sleeping tunic and Arthur stepped into his pants. He reached to do up the laces.

“So?” Merlin looked up from his work, doing his best to ignore the expanse of Arthur’s skin just above where his fingertips hovered and the intense stare that Arthur was giving him.

“You’re an absolute bloody prat, did you know that?” Merlin asked, finishing his work with the laces and slipping a tunic over his prince’s head. His was much less gentle than the action called for, and so Arthur’s head emerged from the tunic a bit dazed and his hair a bit more disheveled. “But I guess I don’t really have much of a choice, so fine.”

“Just meet me back here before dinner,” Arthur told him. “And if you keep going around calling me a prat, you’ll get thrown in the stocks again.”

“What an impressive apology, sire. Really, your benevolence and mercy know no bounds.” Merlin rolled his eyes obviously. A quick glance at Arthur, though, told him that he’d succeeded in drawing a smile from him, so Merlin supposed the whole situation wasn’t as bad as it could be. Truthfully, it worked out a lot better than he’d expected it to, so that was something.

Merlin was snapped out of his reverie when he realized his hands were moving marginally without him telling them to. He looked down, eyes widening when he realized that they still rested on the hem of Arthur’s shirt and his prince’s breathing had been shifting them with the movement of his diaphragm. Arthur made no move to pull away, but when Merlin looked up again his eyes were roving over his face and upper body, his lips parted as though he was going to say something.

Merlin’s mouth opened as he thought to speak, but he ended up simply breathing in and feeling the motion of his hands accelerate as Arthur tracked the action. Then he closed his mouth again and stepped back, his fingertips trailing along the shirt hem before dropping to his side.

Arthur swallowed, dragging his tongue across the seam of his lips before saying, “You should probably get going.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to waste any more of my hard-earned free time tending to you,” Merlin laughed nervously, grimacing as he backed into Arthur’s wardrobe before turning his back to Arthur and walking out. He could hear Arthur’s laughter behind him as he closed the door behind him and walked down the hallway to return to his room.

If he had time off, he figured that the best way to get out of any other chores would be to cloister himself in his room and practice his own magic.

Merlin spent a bit of time around lunch on a stroll through the castle grounds and lower town, but otherwise all his time was spent reading his grimoire and perfecting a few spells that he expected would be useful to know at some point. Honestly he was surprised by how little he did outside of working for Arthur and saving the giant clotpole from every magic thing that wanted him dead, but given how much of his time those two things took up, it made sense.

Merlin rather enjoyed having most of the day to himself, and by the time he found himself climbing the stairs towards the hallway that Arthur’s chambers were on, he was feeling pretty good. He saw Gwen leaving Morgana’s room and exchanged quick pleasantries with her before opening Arthur’s door.

He closed it behind him and walked over to the desk where Arthur was sitting doing paperwork, his head bowed and lips moving as he mouthed out the words of whatever he was reading. These moments were as telling of the king Arthur would become as the moments in the throne room or on the training field or in the wilds of Camelot. He was mesmerizing to watch in these moments, drawing Merlin to him like a moth to a flame. Merlin’s footsteps were soft as he tried not to disturb his prince.

He made it to the table and stopped, paused by some ineffable sense that things weren’t exactly the same as when he’d left that morning. He looked around, trying to pinpoint exactly what was different. Finally, his eyes came to rest on the table where a vase of flowers sat. Merlin strode over, reaching out a hand to stroke the soft leaf of a red carnation.

“I just saw Gwen leaving Morgana’s chambers, if you’d like me to go give these to her,” He turned his head to put Arthur in his line of sight. His prince had already been looking up from his work at him. “Morgana told me that she’d heard you and Gwen were having to work through some things. If you’re wanting to make things up to her, these are beautiful. Not the most creative way to do it, but then again, I can’t say she’s with you for your brain, sire.”

“Good thing I don’t keep you around for your brain either, Merlin, considering so much of it is filled with idle gossip,” Arthur responded drily, although Merlin could make out the familiar glint of jesting in his eyes. “Is that what you and Morgana are doing at night?”

“A gentleman never tells,” Merlin crossed his heart solemnly, then relented and cracked a smile, “Although I’m really not one.” Arthur stood up from his work and made his way across the room to stand next to Merlin as he admired the flowers.

“They’re not for Gwen, she and I are on perfectly fine terms.”

Merlin feigned a casual air as best he could, “So you’re together and acting stupidly in love? No more trouble in paradise?”

“She and I broke it off, Merlin.”

“What?” Merlin’s hand dropped from the flowers as he turned around to face Arthur fully. “That’s ridiculous. Why?”

“She loves Lancelot. And my heart hadn’t really been in it for a while. We didn’t see the point in carrying on like that, it’d only make us hate each other.”

“So you’re still friends? And you’re okay with that? You seem to be taking this really well.”

Arthur shrugged, “Like I said, I didn’t love her that way anymore. This way, I’m free to pursue whoever I want.” Arthur fixed him with an enigmatic stare.

“That still doesn’t explain the flowers,” Merlin pointed out, meaning to accompany his words with a glance at the vase but finding himself unable to look away from Arthur.

“They’re for you,” Arthur slid the vase closer to the edge of the table and Merlin’s hands as he spoke, breaking eye contact and granting Merlin a view of his profile as he did so. “I realized that with you spending more time helping Morgana with her nightmares, you wouldn’t be as free to help Gaius, so when I went out today to the farmers I tried to bring back a few plants with me so that maybe you wouldn’t have to go out searching for herbs as much.”

If Merlin was talking with anyone else he would’ve sworn at that point that they were rambling, but this was Arthur. And everything suited Arthur, even talking too much. It didn’t hurt, either, that Merlin was so fond of his voice. After a second to process what Arthur had said rather than simply marvel at the wonder that was his voice, Merlin perked up.

“Yeah! So the carnation petals can be brewed into a tea to cure fatigue, stress, or anxiety of any kind really. The begonias there can be applied to the skin in a poultice to relieve pain and burn or made into an infusion for headaches. If you eat the raw rose petals here, it’ll increase blood circulation.” Merlin bit his lip, his fingers dancing over the petals and stems and leaves. “Oh, and the daisies can be made into a poultice to treat wounds or can be ingested to work as a laxative.”

“That’s-” Arthur grimaced, likely due to the notion of daisies as laxatives “-lovely. That you know all of that, that is.”

Merlin hummed contentedly, “Well, I guess I really have picked up a thing or two from helping Gaius for so long now.” He sorted through all of the flowers there, separating them out and cataloging which ones he’d need to put where in Gaius’s stores. Some subconscious part of his mind was aware of Arthur’s presence so close to him the entire time, of Arthur’s lingering gazes over his face and hands. Whenever that part of his mind began to pipe up, he did his best to ignore it. Once he was done, he shifted himself to face Arthur with a grin.

“I was under the impression that you didn’t have time to spend picking flowers, sire,” he said, realizing that if Arthur was any closer, he would practically be in Arthur’s lap. Merlin tried not to squirm but dismiss the image quietly.

“I don’t. I just made an exception this once,” Arthur replied. Because he still felt bad about last night, Merlin read in the lines of tension in Arthur’s form and the way his eyes, which were nearly attached to Merlin before, now avoided him to look down at the floor. He studied the flowers again, and his eyes widened in understanding before shooting back to Arthur. His prince still appeared rather cowed, never shrinking away from him physically, but avoiding contact all the same.

Merlin reached out and tapped a finger against the underneath of Arthur’s chin, finally forcing his prince to watch him again.

“You know, in all of your many etiquette classes, they should’ve at least mentioned once that it’s rude not to look at whoever you’re talking to.” A tentative but growing smile graced Arthur’s face. “If this is your way of apologizing, Arthur, then you’re forgiven. But you shouldn’t assume that the same things that worked with Gwen will work on me, okay?”

“Why wouldn’t they? You’re as much of a girl as she is.”

“Yeah, well, next time one of your precious knights gets injured from your Spartan training methods, he’ll be happy you brought me these daisies.” Merlin said, sticking his tongue out as he finished speaking. Arthur caught sight of the action and seemed to freeze, just standing there and staring at Merlin’s mouth. Merlin cleared his throat and leaned, knees bent, against the table and that seemed sufficient in bringing Arthur back from wherever his mind had wandered off to.

“I don’t think one of my injured knights would appreciate a laxative all that much, Merlin.”

“What?” Merlin sputtered, “No! As a poultice for the wound, you complete dollophead!” Merlin elbowed Arthur in the side as laughter spilled out of his prince. Eventually it was enough to make Merlin chuckle too. They managed to calm down, but another glance at each other had them both in hysterics again. Arthur doubled over, placing a hand on Merlin’s thigh to steady himself, and Merlin’s laughter cut out. His entire body seemed to stop functioning as Arthur noticed and straightened again, glancing over at Merlin as he did so.

It was like Merlin’s entire body had suddenly refocused its existence into the contact between he and Arthur. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest even as his mind frantically searching for anything to say and came up short. Arthur’s eyes roamed his body, checking Merlin over for any signs of physical pain, before they came to rest on where his hand met Merlin’s body. Merlin prayed that Arthur didn’t notice his full reaction to him, and that he couldn’t feel his pulse through his touch.

When Arthur began to move his hand, pulling it back even as he rotated it so that it trailed along the inner seam of Merlin’s trousers, Merlin almost moved forward with it just so that he wouldn’t lose that feeling of connection with Arthur. Then he remembered that if he did that, he’d end up in Arthur’s lap, and had to fight between jumping his prince and jolting away. Arthur’s hand was gone before he could make the decision and when he regarded Arthur once more, he found that he’d inched back from Merlin.

“Sorry,” Arthur said, reaching up with that same hand to run it through his hair in what seemed to be some form of guilt. Merlin nudged him, knocking their knees together.

“Wow, so you can apologize. I never dreamed I’d see the day,” he let his words trail off into the space between them. Arthur gawked at the teasing smile he found on Merlin’s face. Merlin pushed away from the table and stood in front of his prince, offering him his hand. “Come on, we don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

Arthur glanced apprehensively at him, but took Merlin’s hand anyway. Merlin tugged him up, Arthur’s body straightening in the absence of the table to lean on. Merlin stepped toward the door, peering back over his shoulder to see Arthur’s hand slipping through his. His breath hitched as their fingertips ran against each other and then dropped back down to their sides. He mourned the loss for a split second before Arthur continued forward, moving in front of Merlin to lead the way out of the room. Arthur’s hold on the door hesitated just enough so that when Merlin reached out to keep it open so he could walk through it, their hands brushed against each other once more before they drifted apart in the wide expanse of the corridor.

Arthur spent dinner looking over his shoulder to Merlin even more than usual that night, which was generally a sign that Merlin should refill his goblet. So he did, leaning forward with his side pressed against Arthur’s arm to do so, thinking that it was a special kind of torture. The whole ordeal ended with Arthur drinking more than was advisable for such a meal, even after Merlin stopped refilling his cup after every heated glance. It was almost a relief when Uther, Morgana, and Arthur all finished eating and he was free to leave for his lesson with Morgana.

Any other day he would have stayed and walked back to Arthur’s chambers with him, but all of the looks and touches were getting to be too much and Merlin was afraid of saying or doing something that he’d regret later. So instead he all but ran to Morgana’s chambers and ending up getting there before her. Her took a seat on one of her settees and waited for her to walk in.

He heard her before he saw her, chuckling softly to herself as she opened the door. Based on everything he knew about Morgana, her laughter was most likely at Arthur’s expense. Her eyes searched the room and settled on him, lighting up as they did so. Her smirk grew.

“You and Arthur have had quite the day, haven’t you?”

“There is no me and Arthur.” Merlin sighed, rolling his eyes at her antics.

“Right, sure. Keep saying that, maybe someone will believe you.”

“I’m not here to argue with you because even if Arthur and I did feel that way towards each other, it wouldn’t work. So let’s just get on with this.”

Morgana made decent progress that night, Merlin thought. She was able to light and put out the candle reliably, and she weaseled Merlin into promising that next time they’d work with multiple candles and then see about getting the spell to work nonverbally. He was a little later than he would’ve liked getting out, but Morgana was accommodating and walked him to Arthur’s door as she had the night before.

As Merlin slipped away from her hold and into Arthur’s room, he noticed Arthur leaning against the table next to the vase of flowers that still sat there as he had earlier that day and flushed, unable to meet his eyes. Morgana noticed this and raised her eyebrows, glancing between the two of them.

“Don’t have too much fun now, you two,” she winked, twirling around in a flurry of fine silks and striding away.

“You shouldn’t mind her, she just likes to meddle,” Arthur assured him.

“Trust me, I know that well enough by now,” Merlin shared a long-suffering look with him and Merlin let his gaze continue downwards, noting that Arthur was already dressed and seemingly ready for bed. “Although I never would have guessed that you were capable of dressing yourself, my lord. The wonders truly never cease with you.”

“If you ever learn to stop talking, that’ll be a wonder,” Arthur scoffed.

“You can say all you want that you aren’t fond of me, but the flowers beg to differ.”

“That was possibly the worst decision I’ve ever made.”

His voice was an over exaggerated drawl that meant he was definitely being facetious, but the comment was still like a slap in the face to Merlin. Whatever witty reply he had been preparing died out on his tongue and he nodded once, jaw clenched.

“Right. I’ll just- I’ll go, then, since you don’t need me.” It seemed that Merlin being overly emotional and irrational about nothing and knowing it but not being able to stop was a common theme these days. He blamed Arthur for it, just like everything else.

“Merlin, wait!” Arthur grabbed his wrist as he turned to go. “I didn’t mean it like that, you know that. You don’t have to leave.”

“It’s fine, Arthur, I don’t mind it. I just think it’s probably best that I go, anyway. You need your beauty sleep or you’ll be cranky tomorrow. At least, more cranky than usual.”

The corners of Merlin’s lips twitched upwards as he moved his other hand over to encapsulate Arthur’s. He allowed himself to eye the place where the laces of Arthur’s sleeping tunic were pulling apart below the hollow of his throat.

“Okay,” Arthur nodded hesitantly, letting Merlin remove his hand from his wrist. “As long as you’re sure that you’re fine.” His fingers grasped at Merlin’s briefly to accompany his words, but Merlin gave him a reassuring squeeze and he dropped his hand.

“Good night, Arthur,” Merlin’s voice sounded in sotto voce.

“Good night, Merlin,” Arthur breathed.

The next few days were a flurry of activity, all for simply domestic reasons. It was one of the awkward and annoying times where nothing out of the ordinary was happening, but there was somehow so much more to do than usual. This aided in Merlin’s attempts to avoid Arthur as much as possible, however, so Merlin wasn’t apt to complain too much. Although he still complained. Loudly. To Arthur. This worked out well for him too, considering that he couldn’t actually hold a deeper conversation with Arthur while complaining. It also kept his mind occupied when all it really wanted to do was to ogle at Arthur.

Alas, all good things had to come to an end. Or rather, the distractions had to stop so the good things could begin. Merlin was contemplating which it might be in this instance when, one morning, he woke up on his own rather than to Gaius shouting a list of his chores at him. The peaceful awakening, the extra time to slowly disentangle himself from his slumber, these were good things.

He was in the middle of buckling Arthur’s belt when his prince stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“We’re going into the forest today. Pack a lunch, I expect that we’ll be gone for a good bit of time.” The streams of sunlight dancing in his eyes took too much of Merlin’s attention for him to be able to focus on Arthur’s words, so his processing ability was exceptionally slow.

“I’ll go inform the knights. Would you like me to grab your chainmail and sword while I’m in the armory?” Merlin’s grip on the belt tightened as he tried to ground himself instead of soaring off into the cloudless sky of Arthur’s irises.

Arthur shook his head, “It’ll just be the two of us. I won’t need the chainmail, but we are going to take our horses.”

“Of course, sire. I’ll get right on that,” Merlin convinced his hands to release their death grip on the belt and managed to exit the room with his dignity intact, which was miraculous in and of itself.

It was only once he was in the stable grooming their horses that his situation really sunk in. Just the two of them, alone in the forest, doing who knows what. Llamrei, Arthur’s mare, nudged worriedly at his tunic when the hand that had been stroking her nose stopped abruptly. The stroking started back up and she was placated, but Merlin’s mind was far away from his task.

He went about packing their lunches in some sort of stupor, not noticing any of the worried glances that the kitchen workers were giving him, or that the cook had snuck more food into the basket when he wasn’t looking.

His mental state got somewhat better once he and Arthur were actually out on the road, because he didn’t have to speculate anymore and he could choose to focus either on Arthur’s back or their surroundings. He decided to focus on their surroundings, as the other option would just invite trouble.

They arched a hillside to see a river flowing across the lower ground on the other side. Arthur brought them to a halt in the little dell there and dismounted, leading Llamrei over the the stream to drink. Merlin follow suit with his mare, Hengroen.

“This seems to be a good place,” Arthur commented, surveying the encompassing woodlands.

“A good place for what?” Merlin ran his fingers through Hengroen’s mane in the way he knew she liked.

“Eating,” Arthur walked over to Hengroen as well and pulled the basket of food off of where it was attached to her saddle. “What do you think I brought you out here for, the scintillating conversation?” He shifted through it, apparently taking stock of what Merlin had brought, and hummed a bit before walking back over to his own saddle. Merlin watched, wide-eyed and gaping, as Arthur pulled a blanket out from one of this saddlebags and spread it over the forest floor.

“You’re telling me all of this was just so that you could have a picnic lunch in the woods?” Merlin asked incredulously.

“Of course not. All of this was so that we could have a picnic lunch in the woods.”

“You’re absolutely- I can’t believe- This is so-” Merlin groaned, finally pointing to the blanket, “You realize that I’m the one who’s going to have to wash that, right?” Arthur considered the blanket he was already sitting on, the picnic basket open as he pulled out their lunch.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, I’ll just have someone else do it.” Merlin wiped a hand across his face, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“All of this work, packing everything, the horses, all of it. Just to sit down and eat, which we could have done just as well inside the castle without all the work.”

“I suppose we could have, Merlin, but I thought this would be nicer.” It took all the Merlin had in him not to scream. As it was, he let out a sort of frustrated keening sound and turned back to Hengroen. He heard shifting behind him and then there was a hand on either of his shoulders, guiding him away from the horses and onto the blanket.

“Sit,” Arthur commanded. “Eat with me. Try to relax maybe just a little bit.”

“You try-” Merlin’s protests were cut off when Arthur reached over and pushed a grape that he was fairly certain he hadn’t packed into his mouth. He settled for glaring at Arthur but accepting the food that he passed him. It wasn’t until they had finished eating and were laying back, side by side, that Merlin got another chance to talk.

“It would have been nice for you to consider that this expedition would be more work for me.” His face rested on its side so that he could see his prince next to him.

“I thought this would be more special, we eat in the castle all the time.”

“Maybe, but not together. And anyway, we eat in the forest all the time too, whenever we’re away for more than an afternoon.”

“I suppose I was being a bit-” Arthur trailed off, looking for the right word.

“Selfish?” Arthur glared at him, “Narcissistic? Obtuse? Inconsiderate? These are just suggestions, I could go on.” Arthur reached out, swatting at his leg.

“That’s enough, Merlin, I get it,” he sighed, leaning back. “I’m glad I always have you to extol my negative qualities. No one else will, probably because they have a respectable amount of common sense.”

Merlin shrugged, “It’s an unfortunate burden that I bear, being the only one able to deflate your ego. Yet I serve gladly.” He beamed at Arthur, but it died off when Arthur just returned a remorseful look.

“Do you?” He questioned. “I’ve never asked this before, but are you happy serving me?” Merlin’s eyes traced the worry lines, the concern in his furrowed brow, and he wanted to wipe away the doubt he found there. He shifted into his side and reached out, almost surprised as Arthur seemed when his prince didn’t draw back, but accepted his touch. His thumb smoothed out all of the unease on Arthur’s face and then pulled away, resting on the blanket between them.

“You’ll get wrinkles, thinking like that,” he chastised. “I don’t think I’d still be here through all of your prattishness if I wasn’t happy. There are times when I look at you, Arthur, and I see the king that you’ll become.” Arthur’s blue eyes were stormy then, searching Merlin’s face for any hint of deceit. Merlin cracked a smile.

“And then you’ll really need someone to keep your head from swelling up or you won’t fit into your crown.” That, at least, drew a chuckle from Arthur.

“So you’ll still be here when I’m king?”

“Just try and keep me away,” Merlin winked. It was an almost instinctive motion, meant to accompany the teasing nature of his words and steer the conversation away from the serious tone it had taken. Then Arthur’s jaw dropped and Merlin reevaluated the entire situation. Yep, it definitely came across as terribly suggestive. He suddenly regretted the entire afternoon. There was a second of silence when both of them just stared at each other before Arthur burst out in a fit of laughter. When he finally stilled once more, he glanced back to Merlin, mirth still coloring his features.

“I hate to say this, but I doubt that it’d be very hard to.”

“A lot harder than you might think,” he couldn’t help that that came out more bitter and irritated than he’d meant for it to. Arthur guffawed.

“You aren’t exactly in peak physical condition,” he pointed out.

“I bet I could still beat you, though.”

“I’m getting the strangest sense of deja vu here.” A smile broke out across Merlin’s face as he remembered the circumstances of their first meeting.

“It feels like it’s been a lifetime since then,” he confessed, “and yet here you are, as much of a prat as ever.” Arthur gave him a disbelieving glare, appearing stuck between whether he should be angry or impressed with Merlin’s impertinence. He shook his head before speaking.

“You haven’t changed a bit either, still too bold for your own good.”

“If it was really a problem something would have been done about it by now,” Merlin shrugged, “but I wouldn’t want your manly ego to be bruised when you lose.”

In an instant, Arthur had rolled on top of him and pinned him down by the shoulders, his legs on either side of Merlin’s.

“What was that about me and losing? I don’t really think those two words go together,” Arthur tilted his head to the side in contemplation. Merlin raised an eyebrow before knocking his right leg into Arthur’s left hard enough that it put Arthur off balance and rolling them over.

“Hm, see, I have a different opinion,” Merlin told him, holding Arthur’s wrists down into the blanket and putting his weight back onto his hips and legs where they rested on top of Arthur’s thighs so that Arthur couldn’t throw him off balance the way he had.

Arthur, instead, took advantage of the lowered pressure on his upper body and bent up at the waist using his core strength. Merlin’s grip on his wrists loosened and he used the leverage to push Merlin off so he fell onto his back on the grass beyond their blanket. Arthur pinned him down again before he had the chance to stand up, positioning his knees on top of Merlin’s shins and holding Merlin’s wrists above his head in a hand.

Arthur smirked his victory when Merlin grunted and pulled a leg towards himself and up so that he kneed Arthur in the stomach and knocked the breath out of him. Arthur reached out with his free hand to try and steady himself but Merlin grabbed it as he did so and rolled them over to the side so Arthur’s back met the soft grass of the ground beneath him.

Merlin’s fingers intertwined with Arthur’s as he held his hands down beside his head. His legs lay on the outside of Arthur’s, flat against the ground so that the sides of them pressed into his prince’s. His knees bent slightly to hold him up and off of Arthur’s chest and hips. The heavy sounds of their combined panting made Merlin look in front of him again, right into the depths of the indecipherable emotion swimming in the blue eyes he found there.

“I win,” he breathed, dropping his head so that their foreheads rested against one another and closing his eyes so that he wasn’t drawn in any further.

“No,” Arthur responded, his voice a low murmur, “You’re exactly where I want you to be.”

Through the exchange of their hurried and deep breaths, Merlin could feel Arthur gently tipping his chin upwards. Even so, the gentle skim of Arthur’s lips against his sent a shuddering thrill down his spine and started a feeling similar to pure, unadulterated elation and freedom blossoming in the very core of his being, the part of himself that housed his magic.

Before he could chase whatever this was between he and Arthur, this absolute bliss emanating from his magic, he heard voices and it turned to dread. His eyes shot open and met Arthur’s, their bodies connected everywhere but where he wanted them to be.

“Kendrick! Over here!” Merlin turned his head towards the shout to see that the bandits hadn’t yet crested the rise surrounding their picnic spot, then to where Arthur’s sword rested in its scabbard attached to Llamrei’s saddle. It was a good fifty yards from where they were lying.

“Merlin,” his gaze snapped back to Arthur’s.

“Arthur, we-”

“Shh,” between the gentle shushing and apology written across the features in front of him, he let himself be quieted. “Merlin, when I tell you to, I want you to make a break for the horses. Take Hengroen and ride back to Camelot as fast as you can-”

“I’m not leaving-” Their words came out rushed, panicked.

“Shush now, okay? Everything’s going to be fine,” neither of them believed it, but Merlin didn’t argue with Arthur’s attempts to comfort him. “Get to Camelot as fast as you can and then lead the knights back here, understand?”

The voices got louder. Arthur squeezed his hand.

Merlin shook his head slowly, stilling his frantic searching of Arthur’s face. They locked eyes. Merlin tried to convey his conviction, he knew what he had to do, but his voice shook as he spoke.

“Promise me that no matter what happens, nothing will change between us.”

He could feel Arthur’s hesitance, his apprehension in the stiffness of his body against Merlin’s.

“Promise me, Arthur.”

“I promise. I promise we’ll be fine.”

Merlin untangled one of his hands and reached over, dragging his thumb across Arthur’s cheekbone. He closed his eyes, living for as long as he could in Arthur’s light to try and memorize the feeling of it. When he opened them, he could see their golden glow reflected in Arthur’s eyes as he sat up, trailing his fingers along his prince’s jaw. He gave a sad smile and turned his back to his prince as the bandits gave a yell and began pouring down the rise on either side of him.

He waited until they were all over the rise and then slowly raised his hands.

“Ástríce.” His voice echoed with the spell’s power as he poured his magic into it. It blasted out in circles around he and Arthur, safe in its epicenter. The closest men to them were thrown backwards into the people running behind them. A few of the bandits stopped dead in their tracks after that, but the ones that didn’t simply stepped over their friends as they tried to get close enough to Merlin and Arthur to attack.

He stood over Arthur’s prone body, feet rooted in the earth and mind rooted in magic. When he heard the sharp twang of nearby bowstrings, the sound reverberated through the space and his own awareness, echoing deep in his consciousness. He looked over to the incoming arrows and they stopped, hanging in midair for a moment. The closest hovered directly in front of his palm.

“Swilte,” with a flick of his wrist, the projectiles were sent back towards their owners. His eyes narrowed, noticing the approach of many of the bandits that had survived his first spell. They were getting too close for him to be comfortable, the ones who came from behind him too close to Arthur. “Ligfyr onbærne swiþe,” a circle of fire drew itself around he and his prince and their picnic, burning the few bandits who had already stepped onto its perimeter.

There was still the matter of those few who were lingering around the fire’s edge and in the trees and forest surrounding them. Arthur wasn’t in so much immediate danger anymore, but it would still be challenging to leave.

“Forbearnan firgenholt,” the circle of flames shot upwards and out, consuming some of those who’d been standing close to it.

“Tídrénas.”

A sheet of water crashed down from the sky, drenching everyone in the vicinity and continuing to pour down. The magical fire didn’t even sputter. Merlin glanced up, then pointed to a group of their attackers outside the circle. A second later, lightning flashed down to hit them. The storm continued until Merlin was the only person left standing, Arthur at his feet. With a flash of gold, the rain stopped and the dell, and everything in it, dried.

“Forþ fleoge.” A gust of wind blew out the circle of fire that surrounded them, revealing that the ground underneath wasn’t the slightest bit burned. Merlin dropped his hands to his side, realizing that he’d kept them raised the whole time, and sighed. He tilted his face upwards to catch the feeling of the sun against it. Then his head dropped and he started off towards the horses, running a soothing hand down Llamrei’s mane when she shook her head irritably. He gave a fond smile when Hengroen bumped her head against his shoulder, jealous for his attention, and tried to ignore how quietly frozen Arthur was.

He glanced back and clenched his jaw at how Arthur had stood up but wasn’t moving. With a glance, their food and blanket began to put themselves away, packing into the basket which flew into his hand. He secured it into Hengroen’s saddle. He heard his name fall from Arthur’s lips, but interrupted before he could say anything else.

“I’m sorry. I don’t-” Merlin took a deep breath, “I don’t think we should talk about this yet. I don’t want you to- I don’t want to- One of us might say something we regret. I should have told you earlier, I know.” He was about to say more but thought better of it, standing there until Arthur silently walked over and mounted Llamrei, pointing her back towards the castle. Merlin followed suit on Hengroen, thankful for the silence but also just as wary for it.

That silence between them held for nearly a week, and Merlin did everything he could to keep it that way. No one had come to arrest him, but Arthur still hadn’t said anything, although certainly not for lack of trying. Merlin avoided him as much as possible, and when he had to be with him, he did his best to make sure that someone else was in the room as well. Even so, Arthur always seemed to be on the verge of saying something to him or pulling him aside or even just instigating one of those casual, weighted touches that they’d shared so many times before to try and get Merlin’s attention. When this happened, it took all Merlin had not to run from the room so that he wouldn’t have to see the disappointment and revulsion in Arthur’s eyes. That would be enough to shatter Merlin’s heart along the cracks that had already formed. Maybe if he ignored the problem long enough, Arthur would give up on finding a time to fire him like Merlin knew he wanted to, if nothing else.

The problem with Merlin’s technique was that, given how close the two of them were before, it was noticeable. To everyone. He didn’t know how much Arthur was being questioned, but all of the knights and staff and anyone he was close to seemed worried. Gaius had asked about it first, right after Merlin had rushed in upon returning from the disastrous picnic only to have a full panic attack in the middle of their chambers. By the time he calmed down, Merlin had spilled everything. Then Gwen asked him about it, then Leon, and then Morgana that night when they had their lesson and Merlin could barely focus. Somehow he managed to keep it together enough to deflect their questioning, though.

The worried glances didn’t let up, especially when anyone was in a room with him and Arthur. Luckily though, the questioning did. Except in Morgana’s case, although that was to be expected. Given everything, Merlin had to say that she seemed to be the biggest supporter of things between him and his prince. Merlin didn’t let himself consider what exactly he meant by ‘things’. Considering how they were doing recently, he had no reason to consider it anyway. Merlin concluded that this train of thought only brought pain. But then again, so did looking at Arthur or being near Arthur or talking about Arthur.

Gaius was surprisingly accepting of the situation. He was worried, sure, but didn’t argue with what Merlin had done. This was mostly because he couldn’t see a better solution to everything, Merlin suspected. Gaius fretted. He constantly eyed Merlin whenever he was near, and any guards or knights or Camelot officials or even the king himself as if they would suddenly try to arrest Merlin. As much as Merlin appreciated his concern, it put him on edge as well.

“Merlin! Merlin,” he blinked, focusing on the pair of snapping fingers in front of his face. It had been six days and his mood was worsening. He did his job and whatever else was asked of him, but little else.

“Sorry Morgana, I’ve just been tired recently.” She noted the bags under his eyes and her brows furrowed.

“Have you been sleeping well?” She asked, leaning in.

“No,” Merlin admitted, “but not because of any nightmares. How have you been?”

“Better, thanks to you,” she smiled, “I’m serious though, you’ve helped me so much, Merlin, and I want to return the favor somehow.”

“Just let me know if you ever see anything worrying, okay? A little forewarning would be nice,” he managed a small upward tilt of his lips, and the tightness in his chest loosened at her laugh almost enough that he felt like he could breathe. “And anyway, what’s your big news? You said you made a breakthrough.”

This seemed to sober Morgana up a bit, and she cocked a proud grin at Merlin. With a suggestive lift of her eyebrows, she closed her eyes and hummed thoughtfully. A moment later, all of the candles in the room flickered out and then relit themselves. She opened her eyes as the gold bled out of her irises.

“You did it!” Merlin gasped, looking around. Morgana hadn’t been doing well in picking up the nonverbal aspect of spellwork. They’d moved on to other spells and put candle lighting on the back burner, but it seemed Morgana had been practicing in her free time. Morgana had been holding back the entire lesson, but now that they were technically finished with their one hour time slot, it seemed she had deigned to share her new ability.

“That’s fantastic,” he gushed, trying to tap into Morgana’s happiness to feed his own. Morgana just gave him a sad look, and suddenly the room was stifling. He shifted his knees so he could stand up and leave, considering they were now going over their allotted time, but Morgana reached for his wrist as he did so.

“Wait, Merlin, I’m worried about you,” she admitted. “Stay, talk to me. Maybe I can offer some sort of advice.” She shook her head, visibly distressed.

“I appreciate it, Morgana, but really I’ll be okay.”

“You’re obviously not right now.” She frowned, shifting her hold to take his hands in hers. “Is this about Arthur? You still haven’t told me what happened.”

“It’s,” Merlin shifted uncomfortably, “hard to talk about.”

“Well, maybe you should try,” she suggested. “Talking to you about my magic made a world of difference, maybe it could help you to get your problems out of your head, get another perspective.”

He took a deep breath, “Fine.” He managed to stutter through a description of what happened on his picnic with Arthur, leaving out a few choice personal details, and watched as understanding dawned on Morgana’s face. By the end, her felt almost as raw and broken as he had when it happened and when he told Gaius, but to Morgana’s credit, it did feel better than the numbness he’d been fighting for days. As much as Gaius’s silent support had bolstered him, the fire alight in Morgana’s eyes as he finished speaking was comforting in its own way.

“That absolute pig!” She declared. “That’s terrible, how he’s treated you. I don’t know how you stand it.”

“It was my fault.”

“How? You did what you had to to save his life, and if he can’t see that he’s just as bad as his father.” Merlin managed a bitter smile at her words.

“Don’t blame him for the way he was raised. I should have known this would happen.”

“He really doesn’t deserve you,” Morgana shook her head, “and if he doesn’t figure that out and do something about it, then I’ll just have to make sure he does.”

A soft chuckle escaped Merlin’s mouth, much to the surprise of both of them. The talk of Arthur, however, had made him realize how late he was in leaving. Merlin was still avoiding Arthur, of course, but he did still have a job to do. A job that included leaving nearly an hour ago.

“I’m sorry but I’m so late and I really need to go before Arthur has a conniption,” he stood up and Morgana rose with him.

“Right, wouldn’t want to keep him waiting,” she rolled her eyes, but then opened her arms to invite Merlin in for a hug.

“Congratulations, by the way. I’m proud of how much progress you’ve made,” Merlin commented, stepping into her embrace, his back to her door.

“You’re too sweet,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek as her door burst inwards. A sly grin spread across her face that made Merlin worry for whoever had entered. There was a pregnant pause like the calm before a storm. Morgana gave him a sultry wink and suddenly he was being dragged away by the back of his shirt while she just stood there, waving knowingly. Merlin had the feeling this was the outcome she’d been going for all along in convincing him to stay and talk with her.

He twisted his head back to see a fuming Arthur pulling him down the hallway and into his own room. He was still dressed in his tunic and trousers from the day, so Merlin figured he’d been waiting for him, which only made the situation worse. And then there was the position Arthur had found him and Morgana in. Yeah, Merlin decided, he was utterly, royally _fucked_.

Arthur’s hand on his back shoved him forward into his chambers and when he turned around, Arthur’s grip returned on the front of his tunic to push him backwards. His shoulders met the wall next to the divide between Arthur’s bedroom and living area and his head continued its path backwards. Instead of impacting on the wall as well, it was knocked into the hand Arthur had placed there.

Fingers threaded into his scalp and held onto his hair, keeping his head in place while Arthur pinned him there by pressing his body against Merlin’s, making him practically keen at the contact that the past few days had been devoid of. Arthur’s other hand latched into his hip, holding him flush against the wall. Arthur leaned forward, resting his head in the crook between Merlin’s neck and shoulder as his chest heaved with the force of his breathing. A sound erupted from his throat that Merlin could only describe as a growl.

“I know that looked bad, Arthur, but I swear,” Merlin started.

“Shut up,” Arthur hissed.

“You have to believe me, Morgana was just doing it to provoke you.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore! As soon as I finally think you actually might feel the same way, you go and save my life with something I’ve always been taught was evil, tell me not to talk to you about it, and then avoid and ignore me for a week! And then I find you like that with Morgana! What are you even doing with her?”  


Merlin heard nothing after ‘feel the same way’. His brain rushed to process the rest of it, but it was a little overwhelmed by how close Arthur was.

“Wait, you, I didn’t, what? You’re blaming me for this?”

“You asked for time, Merlin! What else could I do, after everything?”

“You don’t hate me?” It came out in a smaller voice than Merlin had wanted, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it. He couldn’t have sounded more confident with the question if he had wanted to. Arthur just let out an angry huff and connected their lips, his hand in Merlin’s hair tightening to the point of pain. Merlin barely registered it anyway. All of his attention was being demanded by the movement of Arthur’s lips against his own.

It was aggressive, demanding, honest; everything that Arthur was, and Merlin couldn’t help but melt into the sensation of it. As he did so, Arthur seemed to relax, his grip softening until he was carding his fingers through Merlin’s ebony locks. Merlin reached up with his own hands impulsively, one wrapping around Arthur’s waist in an attempt to pull Arthur further into him and the other tracing the line of Arthur’s cheekbone back until it curled into his hair.

Merlin tried computing how long he’d wanted this, how long he’d waited, but he couldn’t be pull his consciousness away for long enough to figure it out. In the end, he gave up, surrendering to the fire consuming his senses. There was a golden flash behind his eyelids and a sudden crackling sound pervaded the space. Arthur pulled away sharply and Merlin nearly groaned at the loss. He opened his eyes to see Arthur staring at the fireplace behind them, which, along with all the candles and torches, had burst into flame.

“Is that going to happen every time I kiss you?” Arthur eyed the torch mounted next to them warily. A laugh bubbled up from Merlin’s throat as the hand that was tangled in Arthur’s hair dipped down to trace the outline of his lips.

“Only if you ask nicely,” he replied, tilting Arthur’s chin up to connect their mouths, sighing at the pressure it created. “Wait, wait,” Merlin tried pulling back but found he had no room to, his protests unheeded as Arthur scraped his teeth along his lower lip. Merlin tilted his head downwards, creating space as their foreheads pressed together.

“Arthur, you never answered my question,” his complaint was met with a indulgent eye-roll.

“You, Merlin,” Arthur responded, peppering kisses along his jaw, “are the single most oblivious servant I have ever met.” His mouth dipped lower as he followed the column of Merlin’s throat downwards. “If I hated you,” he paused to nose along the edges of Merlin’s neckerchief, “I sincerely doubt that we would be in this position right now.” He nipped at the skin above a collarbone and was rewarded with a startled gasp that trailed off into a deeper timbre.

“That’s not a straight answer.” Merlin’s hand found its way back into Arthur’s hair so Merlin could pull him off and demand he take this seriously, but then his tongue darted out to lap at the skin he’d bitten and Merlin couldn’t think to do anything but press him closer. Arthur attached himself to that spot, his lips curling upwards against Merlin’s skin when the warlock arched into him.

“Arthur,” the name passed through Merlin’s lips as more of a groan than anything else, “you’re infuriating.” He tugged Arthur back up to his mouth, parting his lips so that Arthur would take the hint. And he did, his tongue tracing Merlin’s full lower lip before delving inside, a shudder running down his spine as he did so. It reverberated through Merlin as well, passing between them in all the places where their bodies touched.

Merlin took advantage of this eager, distracted Arthur and slipped the hand he had wrapped around his waist underneath the hem of Arthur’s shirt, spreading out his fingers until his palm was pressed flat to the burning flesh above Arthur’s hip. He could feel Arthur part from his mouth to suck in a breath, the way his diaphragm expanded when he did. The way that breath hitched at the end when he ran his thumb along the skin below Arthur’s ribs. Arthur’s hands trailed away from Merlin and planted themselves on the wall on either side on his head. Merlin ran his other hand from where it rested in the spun gold at Arthur’s nape down his chest and torso until it brushed underneath the tunic as well and wrapped around Arthur’s back to drag up and down the ridges of his spine.

A strangled moan slipped from between Arthur’s lips and his hands dropped to the back of Merlin’s neck to untie his neckerchief. It fell to the ground between them and Arthur leaned in, but was stopped by a firm squeeze from the hand on his hip. Merlin leaned back against the wall, grinning like the idiot Arthur always said he was.

The light from the torch next to them caught on Arthur’s hair and made it practically glow, setting off the flush in his cheeks that Merlin could see in spite of Arthur’s sun-kissed complexion. It matched the redness that had blossomed on his lips. He was _breathtaking_.

Merlin’s hands gripped the edges of Arthur’s tunic, leading it upwards to reveal the toned expanse of his chest. He guided it over Arthur’s head and then let it fall to the ground, for once uncaring whether or not it was folded. He leaned into Arthur’s touch when one of his hands moved to cup his face.

He didn’t protest when Arthur’s other hand tugged at his tunic, but instead pressed his lips along Arthur’s jaw before deciding on exploring his neck and upper chest with his mouth. Once his tunic had finally been removed- the delay was probably his own fault, but he could live with that- he turned his attention from the dark circle of Arthur’s nipple to the face of his prince himself. Merlin didn’t know for sure, but he guessed that he was looking as wrecked as Arthur was.

Merlin stepped forward, forcing Arthur back a bit, then embedded his fingers into Arthur’s silken hair and led him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He ran a finger underneath the band of Arthur’s trousers and pulled him closer until Arthur was positioned on top of him. His mouth fell open at the touch of their bare skin, their bodies aligned perfectly as if they were meant to fit together this way. Arthur’s thumb worried his bottom lip, smiling at his wonder and pressing their foreheads together. Their eyes met and all Merlin could think about was the adoration, the acceptance, that he found within their locked gazes.

Something deep within him, in that place that kept his magic, burst free and tried to soar away. Arthur didn’t even break eye contact as Merlin’s irises shifted to molten gold. They waited, not knowing what to expect, but when nothing obvious happened, Arthur simply returned to running the backs of his fingers along Merlin’s cheekbone. Merlin sighed, contented.

“Kiss me,” he commanded, pulling Arthur further into him.

For a long time after that, they lay together, cocooned against the night’s darkness in the warmth and safety of their unity. Merlin traced his hand along Arthur’s back with their legs tangled together, drawing nonsense patterns and babbling spells of protection against Arthur’s skin, marvelling at the strength he found there.

“Merlin?” Arthur flipped around to face him, throwing an arm over his naked hip. Merlin hummed in response, looping his arms behind Arthur’s neck. “You said you’ve been helping Morgana with her nightmares,” he continued cautiously, “she has magic, doesn’t she?”

Merlin smiled softly, indulgently, reaching to push a blonde lock from Arthur’s forehead. “It’s not my place to say either way. Talk to her, Arthur. And if it makes you feel better, I promise that I don’t care for her this way.” He gestured between them. Arthur just shook his head incredulously.

“You’re too good a secret-keeper, Merlin.” Arthur’s words were accompanied by a sweet peck to Merlin’s lips. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t keep my promise that our relationship wouldn’t change.”

“No you aren’t,” Merlin scoffed, “and neither am I. From now on, no more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” Arthur echoed, a smile gracing his features as Merlin connected their mouths.

**Author's Note:**

> All of the medical uses mentioned of the flowers in the bouquet that Arthur gives to Merlin have been reported as accurate, but who really knows? Please don't try to find out for yourself, though! I did try to pick flowers that at least sort of grow in England, but I did take some creative licence. I also did a little research into the language of flowers and tried to pick ones that were fitting, so if you're interested, here it is:
> 
> Flowers:  
> Daisy- Innocence, loyal love.  
> Begonia- Beware. This one doesn't exactly fit, but oh well. Begonias are pretty anyways.  
> Marigold- Cruelty, grief jealousy  
> Carnation- General- fascination, divine love. Solid Color- Yes. Red- admiration, longing  
> Roses- Leaf- You May Hope. Single Full Bloom- I Love You; I Still Love You. Thornless- Love at First Sight. Yellow- Joy, Friendship. 
> 
> I'm not sure exactly how accurate these are, and no, I didn't mention the rose's color, but there it is in case you were curious like I was.
> 
> All spells were taken from the Merlin Wiki, so there's that.
> 
> Anyway, please feel free to let me know in some way that you liked this fic, if you did. You can even comment what, exactly, you liked about it. I'd really appreciate that. Or even what I could have done better; I'm always looking to improve.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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